grani

She takes one deep breath after another, letting the murky, industrial air fill her lungs.

She unclenches her fist, her knuckles now white, and gently pats her spear case slung over her shoulder.

...It's just you and me now.

Let's go grab a bite first. If we keep at it, there might just be a way.

This is nothing I can't handle myself...

A gust of wind blows past, lifting a stack of waste paper beside a trash can.

She grabs hold of a page from a fluttering newspaper and sees something printed inconspicuously at the bottom.

She holds her breath.

'A car accident... on Third Avenue...'

'Bolton Chemicals manager Danny Coleman was critically injured and sent to the hospital for treatment, where he remains unconscious...'

She crumples the piece of paper into a tiny wad, her thin body trembling slightly.

She stops walking and turns her eyes upward, only to see dark clouds gathering in the sky.

Oh...

*sobbing*––

Someone's crying? Where's it coming from...?

Eric?

*sniffle*... *sob*...

What's wrong, Eric? What happened?

Miss Grani... It's Deedee... He...

After we found him that day, he stopped moving and refused to eat...

She sees the beastling curled up in the boy's arms like a newborn.

Its paw trembles, and after a violent spasm, it collapses like a deflated balloon.

Its breathing stops.

Deedee? Deedee? What's the matter with you? Deedee?

Grani squeezes the beastling's still-warm paw.

Just as she had expected, she notices a hard, grainy feeling against her fingertips.

The crystal particles that broke through its skin have claimed yet another life.

No, this can't be happening! Why Deedee? He was always so nice and well-behaved, never bit anyone, was never bad...

Right? He was always good, right Miss Grani?

Eric...

Deedee has gone somewhere far away. A kinder, more beautiful place.

No... Why did it have to be Deedee...?

The child lets out a sob and tightly clings to the beastling's body.

She hugs the child close.

That's right... It never should've happened to Kurt Jr., or to Deedee. It shouldn't have been them.

...Hello? This is Grani.

Five days later.

My son...

Sir...

Grani... Didn't you already leave?

I brought flowers for Kurt Jr.

Thank you.

Do you miss him?

...When he was still around, we used to fight all the time. I cussed him out in the most vicious ways, and kicked him out of the house.

But recently, I've been seeing him in my dreams. He'd follow me calling 'daddy, daddy,' just like when he was little.

Did you dream about him on the day you signed that Letter of Understanding?

I...

I did.

In my dream, I saw him, all the other Mounted Police, and all of Rydell City's neighbors and workers holding hands and going round-and-round in a big circle for his twenty-seventh birthday.

The candlelight shone on his face. He was singing and dancing with such a joyous expression.

Sir, I left five days ago to reach out to a certain company.

And now I'm back to keep my promise.

Only then does the old man realize that the youth beside him is clutching a cold, glimmering spear in her other hand.

She grips its shaft resolutely.

I hate those who misbehave, those who bully the weak, and those who would manipulate our lives as they please.

I promise you– as long as I can hold this spear, I will do everything in my power to see those people pay.

And I never go back on my word.